


Let it Be

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Diary of a Lonely Housewife [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: 1950s AU, Angst, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Sickfic, background StephRose and DamiColi, capeless au, emotional (but not physical) break up, genderfluid tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Kon's home sick, and Tim's trying to be the dutiful wife in taking care of him. But while Kon's sleeping, Tim let's Jason in- and has to face an aspect to their affair he wasn't braced for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all and thanks for waiting for this installment! Hopefully it's enjoyable. I really wanted a sick fic. I never planned for the angst tho, it sorta just... happened. But then I couldn't take it away.
> 
> [Tim's dress for the fic!](https://twitter.com/TimmyJaybird) (It's the striped one)

Tim sighed, brushing back his husband’s hair with one hand and tapping his closed lips with the thermometer. “Come on honey,” he said, “just open up for a minute.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kon mumbled, before turning his head, coughing into his fist. Tim sighed, giving him that sarcastic  _ really _ look, and Kon sighed, opening his mouth obediently. Tim popped it in, and Kon held it beneath his tongue, pinched it between his lips. Tim pulled back, glancing down at their bedside clock and timing it, as Kon huffed through his nose, obviously not thrilled.

 

“Okay,” Tim said, pulling it back and looking at it. He frowned, as Kon turned, coughed again. “Sugar, you’ve got a fever. You’re  _ obviously _ sick.”

 

“Well, too bad. I’ve got to get ready for work.” Tim reached out when Kon tried to stand up, placing his hand flat on his chest and pushing him back.

 

“No way. You’ll lose your voice within an hour with your cough, and end up miserable all day. Plus you’ll get everyone at the office sick. You’re staying home.” Kon opened his mouth to protest, but Tim was already turning, heading for the bathroom. He stowed the thermometer, before heading to the kitchen, plucking the phone off the wall and carefully dialing his parents.

 

He tapped his foot, cradling the phone against his shoulder and folding his arms. When his mother picked up, he forced that overly cheery voice out that  _ she _ always used. “Did daddy leave for work yet?” he asked, and when she said  _ no _ , he swore it was a lucky morning- in some respects. “Can you tell him Kon is sick? Yes mom, sick. No, don’t worry, we don’t need to go to the doctor. Just a little cough syrup and some rest and he’ll be good as new.” Tim sighed as she continued in his ear. “Yes,  _ yes _ , I did take his temperature. No, I won’t let him out of bed for a thing. I’ll take care of the house. Yes mother, I already considered making him soup.”

 

Sometimes his mother drove him up a wall, as if she didn’t believe he could function as a  _ proper _ wife without her reminders.

 

“Give daddy my love. And tell him I’ll get Kon whipped back into shape as soon as possible.” Tim hung up the phone before she could say more, and headed back for the bedroom. He found Kon flopped back in the pillows, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out, brushed Kon’s hair back, and his forehead was so warm. “Oh baby,” he cooed, and Kon reached up, but instead of swatting Tim’s hand away, pulled it down over his eyes, sighed when it was cool, calming. “You’re staying in bed,” Tim said, “all day. No arguments, no work. I’ll take care of you.”

 

“How did I get so lucky?” Kon mumbled, and his lips were curving into a smile. Tim smiled back, moved his hand and leaned in, kissed Kon’s warm cheek.

 

“You smiled at just the right time and I swooned,” Tim whispered. He patted his husband’s arm, before standing up, leaving the bedroom again. He headed back for the kitchen, opening one of the cupboards and lifting on his toes, looking for the medicine. It took a moment but he found it and smiled, grabbing the heavy feeling bottle. He fished out a spoon before he headed back for the bedroom, just to hear Kon coughing rather painfully.

 

He uncapped the bottle as Kon settled, set the cap on the nightstand and poured the thick, red liquid into the spoon. Kon took one look at it and grimaced. “I think I’m fine-”

 

“Not with that cough mister.” Tim leaned over, offering the spoon. “Open wide for me sweetheart.”

 

“I can think of better moments for that sort of request,” Kon offered, and Tim would’ve swatted him, if he wasn’t afraid of spilling the medicine. He gave Kon another look, and his husband opened his mouth, let Tim slide the spoon within. Tim felt the movement of his tongue as he sucked the liquid off, swiped his tongue over it, and pulled it out, filling it again as Kon swallowed and grimaced.

 

“One more, stud,” Tim teased, and Kon huffed, opening again. “Good job,” Tim whispered, as Kon swallowed the second round of medicine. “Once we get your better maybe I  _ will _ ask you that again.” Tim winked, turning to grab the cap for the bottle. He was screwing it back on when he felt Kon’s large hand playfully smack his backside. Tim yelped, jumping a little and turning, finding his husband with a grin plastered on his tired face. Tim wagged the spoon at him, but he was laughing. “What am I going to do with you,” Tim whispered, and Kon settled more comfortably into the pillows.

 

“Well, breakfast would be great.”

 

“That I can manage,” he said, “but no coffee, I want you sleeping again, not up all day wandering the house.” Kon didn’t argue, and Tim left him, heading into the kitchen. He tossed the spoon in the sink, but left the medicine out, knowing he’d be offering up another dose in a few hours. He headed to the stove, turning it on and setting the pan out to heat up.

 

Tim bustled about, moving to and from the fridge. Butter, eggs, sausage, all laid out on the counter, as he was grabbing the bread, popping it into the toaster. He went for an easier cooking route and cracked the eggs on the skillet, scrambling them instead of the usual  _ sunny side up _ , that way it would be less of a mess and he wouldn’t have to drag Kon out of bed to eat.

 

He left the sausages to sizzle with the eggs, grabbing the toast when it popped up and spread butter over it. He cut them diagonal- just like Kon liked- before moving to the fridge. He thought if he had truly been the  _ perfect wife _ , he would have this freshly squeezed himself, but the carton he had bought and poured into the pitcher would have to work. He carried it to the counter, poured a tall glass, before heading back to the stove. He shuffled everything around, before he went hunting, knowing they had a little tray  _ somewhere _ .

 

He found it in the storage closet, with just enough time to bustle back to the kitchen, turn off the stove before breakfast burnt. He set the tray on the counter, made sure it stood sturdy on it’s small legs, before he set the glass on it, then the plate. A move back to the stove to grab the pan, and he was sliding everything onto the plate. He left the pan back on the stove and very carefully lifted the tray, making his way back towards the bedroom.

 

“Honey, are you still awake?” he asked, opening the door with his hip. Kon seemed peaceful for a moment, before Tim could just see those eyes cracking open. He managed to flip the light on proper with his shoulder, before walking over. Kon sat up, slower than usual, and Tim bent over, settled the tray carefully in his lap.

 

“Thank you sweetheart,” Kon said, “it looks delicious.” Tim smiled, reaching behind Kon to fluff his pillows a bit. “Do you know if the paper came?”

 

“I can check,” Tim said, about to leave before he heard Kon clear his throat. Tim glanced back, and Kon’s eyes were traveling over him, making the skin on the back of his thighs prickle with goosebumps.

 

He was still in his nightgown. And he  _ knew _ Kon wasn’t a fan of him traipsing around outside in just that.

 

He moved towards Kon’s closet, opened it and grabbed  _ his _ robe. He shrugged it on, knowing his husband was watching, before he made his way out of the bedroom and towards the front door. As expected, the paper was carefully tossed on the front step. Tim stooped over, picked it up and surveyed the outside world. The neighbors across the street were leaving for work, the kids hurrying to head for the corner for the bus. A quick glance to his left, and Tim could see Rose’s care still parked firmly in the driveway. He thought today was her last day home before work pulled her away again.

 

He glanced further down the street, before her perked up a bit. He leaned against his doorframe, watching as Colin headed out the front door, towards the car. Damian appeared in the doorway, watching but only with half attention, arms folded loosely over his chest.

 

Tim frowned. He truly didn’t understand what his problem was. Tim would have been rushing out that door to kiss Colin again, were they switched, he was sure of it. And for not the first time, he wondered how they had even ended up together, considering Damian’s standing.

 

He knew Colin came from nothing.

 

The redhead turned, waved happily at the door, and Tim swore he caught Damian’s lips quirking up. He relaxed a bit, offering a small curl of his fingers, and that alone had Colin beaming, as he climbed into the car.

 

Okay, maybe there was something there. Somewhere.

 

Tim turned, heading back inside before he could be caught for exactly what he chastised Damian of doing. He shut the door and headed for the bedroom, found Kon had made quick work of breakfast, and was just finishing off the orange juice. The moment he set the glass down Tim handed him the paper, gathering up the tray.

 

“Thanks honey,” Kon said, stretching it open. Tim gave him a single smile, before he headed back out into the kitchen. He started work on the dishes, and while he was not  _ fast _ , there were few and it didn’t take long. However, when he was just drying his hands off and thinking he might return his husband’s robe and take a shower, he heard shuffling around. Sighing, Tim turned on his heel, heading straight for the bedroom.

 

Kon was up, working to try and open the window. Tim frowned, marching over and grasping him by the arm, giving a gentle tug. Kon stepped back far too easily.

 

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, “I said in bed, all day.”

 

“I’m just hot,” Kon admitted, and Tim shook his head, hurrying him back to bed. Kon settled down, and Tim shed his robe, left it tossed by the foot of the bed and crawled on himself. He reached forward, began unbutton Kon’s pajama top. Everytime Tim’s fingertips or knuckles brushed his skin, it was burning. Tim frowned, helping to guide it off him.

 

“Window stays shut,” Tim said, “You have a fever. You’ll get a chill and only get worse.” He reached up, slid his hands back through Kon’s hair, watched his eyelids flutter. “You lay back down. The paper will keep. Okay?” Kon nodded slowly, and Tim stood up, dropped the pajama top on the robe as Kon lay back down. Tim folded the paper back up, left it on the nightstand, before pulling the sheet up over Kon, leaving the comforter down around his waist. “I’m going to shower,” Tim said, leaning over and kissing his temple. “I’ll check on you after, alright?”

 

Kon nodded, and Tim brushed his hair back affectionately, one more time.

 

*

 

Tim’s shower was hot, exactly how he liked it. It left steam on the mirror and his skin nicely flushed. He sighed as he rubbed the towel over him, gathering up the loose droplets. He carefully wrapped it up around his chest, the fluffy pink fabric barely covering the swell of his ass, and made his way from the bathroom out towards the bedroom. He thought maybe if Kon had been good and was still resting, he might give him a bit of a show. Might indulge him in a little  _ tender loving care _ in a more fun way than breakfast and cough syrup.

 

“Baby,” Tim whispered, pushing the door open. He’d shut the light off, but the sunlight was peeking through the fabric of the curtains, leaving the room dim but not dark. Kon didn’t respond, and Tim smiled, walking over to the bed. He was out, sound asleep by the even rise and fall of his chest. Tim smiled, bent down and kissed his forehead, thinking it was even warmer.

 

For a moment, he wondered if he should have called the doctor.

 

He swallowed those thoughts, set about getting dressed. He tossed his towel in the hamper, dug out his panties. He tugged them on before wiggling into his striped dress, buttoning it carefully. Once he had his belt around his waist he sat down at his vanity, leaning in to carefully do up his eyes, despite the light.

 

It was a little slow going, but Tim managed. When he was done he brushed his hair, before heading back out into the kitchen.

 

His mother had been right on the phone, earlier. That some homemade soup was what Kon deserved, in order to feel better. Tim pulled out one of his recipe books, flipping through it until he could find the soup section, scanning over them. He left the book open, carefully rummaging through the fridge and blissfully happy he had gone grocery shopping while Kon was away.

 

He wondered if he should call Bart, make sure he and Jaime weren’t sick. After all, it was after that weekend trip that Kon had come down ill, and he was concerned for their friends. Still, he decided to leave them be, and maybe he would call later on.

 

He lost track of time, setting the large pot on the stove and filling it with water. It was far more than the two of them could eat, but the recipe call for a large serving size, and Tim was too afraid to alter anything, lest he end up ruining the whole thing. The chicken he left out, after rubbing some seasoning into it, thinking he would cook that after it had some time to set.

 

It took some time to get all the vegetables chopped. When Tim had them, along with some  _ soup seasoning _ he had found at the store mixed into the pot- and oh, he was sure his mother would disapprove of a short cut, but he figured she never had to know- he was heading back to the bedroom. He didn’t open the door but leaned his head against it, listening. Faintly, he could hear Kon’s breathing, and satisfied that he was still asleep, moved back to the kitchen.

 

The pot would sit and simmer for quite some time. Tim plated the chicken, popping it in the open, hoping it would all come together alright. The last thing he wanted was his poor, sick husband coming to around dinner time and there to  _ be _ no dinner at all.

 

Tim was washing his hands when he heard it, the sound of faint footsteps on the steps. He dried his hands quickly,flitting from the kitchen down the hall and to the door, opening it as Jason had his mail in hand.

 

The moment he smiled, Tim’s heart was in his throat.

 

“Good afternoon,” Jason offered, holding out the mail. “This would be yours.” Tim took it, knew that from the formality Jason was using, he must have noticed Kon’s car in the driveway.

 

Tim realized, in that moment, they wouldn’t  _ play _ , and his heart sunk a bit.

 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. Jason turned, seemed to bracket him, one arm going up to lean next to TIm’s body. Tim held the letters to his chest, swallowing. “Nice to see a familiar face,” he offered, trying to keep it casual, “my husband is sick.”

 

He wanted to convey the situation, his  _ sadness _ , but he didn’t want anyone to catch on.

 

Jason frowned, and there was a line, between his eyebrows. Tim was almost gleeful that he was disappointed, as well.

 

“Well, he’s in good hands with you,” Jason offered, the hand hidden away from the outside finding Tim’s waist and squeezing. Tim lost his breath, wanted that hand  _ everywhere _ . He glanced back inside, before leaning over Jason’s one arm, checking to make sure the street was deserted.

 

He saw no one, and with his mind dangerously made up, grabbed Jason by his arm and tugged him inside. Jason gave a little surprised noise, as the screen door shut, and he was pulled in far enough for the proper door to shut. “Babygirl, you said-”

 

“I know,” Tim whispered, leaning in and pressing right up against Jason. His mail fluttered to the floor as he splayed his hands on his lover’s chest, pushing up on his toes. “But I’ve  _ missed _ you. Kon is sleeping. If you can be quiet, I can take care of you too.”

 

Jason swallowed, and Tim could see, for a moment, the back and forth of the decision, in his eyes. But when Jason had a hand at the small of his back, was leaning down to kiss him. Sweetly so.

 

Affection. Just like the mouth Tim had tasted, over the weekend. Roy’s little tender kisses to his temple had felt the same.

 

He had told himself  _ no affection _ -

 

“Come with me,” Tim said, speaking low. He grasped Jason’s hands, guiding him into the house. Jason followed Tim into the living room, around the coffee table to the sofa. Tim took his bag, set it on the floor, and got his hands on Jason’s shoulders. He guided him down and Jason sat, pulling his hat off and setting it next to him. He glanced at the other side, and Tim knew he expected him to sit with him.

 

Instead, Tim sank down very carefully to his knees. His dress fanned out around him, and Tim reached up, gave Jason’s heavy thighs a firm squeeze. Jason opened them more, and Tim went right for his belt, opening it with deft fingers and moving to his fly.

 

“Are you sure babygirl?” Jason asked, even as Tim noticed the obvious bulge in his briefs. “I don’t want you getting yourself caught.”

 

Tim shivered over that, squeezed Jason’s thighs tighter.

 

“It’s alright,” Tim whispered, even though he truly couldn’t say it  _ was _ . Who was to say Kon would stay sleeping? Who was to say he wouldn’t get up for the bathroom, for a glass of water, anything at all? There was no guarantee, but Tim  _ needed _ this, and damn the risk.

 

Or maybe he was welcoming it.

 

Tim leaned over, pressed a kiss to Jason’s cockhead through his underwear. He mouthed at the heat there slowly, until Jason was sighing, a hand stroking through Tim’s hair. Tim smiled, curled his fingers in the waistband of Jason’s briefs, gently tugging them down, just enough that his cock spilled free.

 

Tim leaned up a little more, this time kissed his bare cockhead, mouth moving slowly down along the underside. Jason exhaled, heavy, still petting Tim’s hair, as Tim got to the base. He sucked at the side, licked his way back up, tongue rolling over his glans, before moving to tease his slit.

 

Jason breathed out  _ babygirl _ , and Tim wasn’t sure if the tightness in his belly was arousal or affection or something else, but it made him whimper, made him open his mouth and carefully suck Jason in. Jason sighed, and Tim moved slowly, taking his time. His hands kept squeezing Jason’s thighs, and he had to keep his eyes closed, because that hand wasn’t leaving his hair.

 

Tim shivered, wriggling his hips as he eased further down Jason’s length. The salt coating his tongue was intoxicating, and Jason’s skin alone could drive him to madness. He couldn’t remember feeling like this before, so drunk on someone-

 

Except he could. If he let himself, he could remember the first time fumbling with Kon. Could remember giddiness as they were pressed up against his car, hidden outside as the school band played. He could remember being his  _ sweetheart _ and feeling drunk on every kiss, every virgin touch and fumbled word and awkward laugh.

 

He remembered falling in love and staying there.

 

Tim pulled off, moved one hand to cradle Jason’s cock as he mouthed down the side. He felt it throbbing, but he kept his touches so damn gentle. And Jason, he didn’t seem to mind, kept whispering his praise, calling Tim his  _ babygirl _ and telling him what a good job he was doing. How good he made him feel.

 

How he missed him, when they couldn’t be like this.

 

Tim sank his mouth back over Jason’s cock, as his lover got both hands in his hair. Jason was moaning softly, hips rocking up, and it was with Tim’s hair wrapped around his fingers that he came. Tim drank it down, swallowing and refusing to leave Jason’s cock, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. Wanting to make love to at least a single part of his body, if he could.

 

But then Jason was leaning over, his hands on Tim’s shoulders. He was pushing back gently, and Tim pulled off, looked up with slightly rosy lips.

 

“Come up here,” Jason whispered, and Tim stood up on shaking legs. Jason tucked himself away, got his pants and belt closed, before Tim straddled his lap. Jason reached out, got his hands under his dress and carefully slid them up his thighs. They were warm, and Tim tipped his hand back, sighing when they reached his hips. Jason peeled his panties down, before he grasped at his cock, stroking it beneath Tim’s dress. Tim shivered, worried at his lower lip, trying to keep quiet at his hips rocked with Jason’s hand. His thumb kept circling his cockhead, smearing precum down his shaft, and Tim didn’t know what to do with himself. Where to put his hands.

 

He reached out, got them on Jason’s shoulder, feeling  _ weak _ . His legs were shaking and he shouldn’t be this close, shouldn’t be so worked up- but taking his time with Jason, letting himself feel sick with this sort of affection, it had left him like this. He shivered, and suddenly Jason was lifting his dress with his free hand, bending over and getting his mouth on Tim’s cock. Tim gasped, doubled over and clutched and clawed at Jason’s back, his hips rocking forward. Wordlessly, with just a choked sob, he came over Jason’s tongue, trying to cling to him as if he may call off the world itself.

 

Tim only moved when Jason did, when the man tried to sit up. But the moment he did Tim had his arms around his neck, was pressing his mouth to Jason’s and kissing him, tasting himself and sighing over it. Jason’s hands roamed over his back, clutched him close, and for a moment Tim could have stayed there, just like that, forever.

 

But there was something nagging, in the back of his mind, something pulling him away.

 

He pulled back from the kiss, and would always be silently grateful he never said a word. Jason reached up, cupped his face and ran his thumb over Tim’s lower lip. “Your husband needs you,” he whispered, and went for a kiss to Tim’s forehead. “Don’t ever forget that.”

 

Tim closed his eyes. He felt sick, down in his belly,  _ mad _ at himself because this wasn’t how this was supposed to be. It had been so  _ carefree _ with everyone else, had started that way with Jason, and yet-

 

He didn’t want him to ever  _ leave _ .

 

“I have to go,” Jason whispered, placing a kiss to Tim’s cheek. “You know I do.” A kiss to the other. Then one to his pulse, and Tim wrapped his arms around his neck again, simply hugged him. Jason held him back, hushed him, and Tim wasn’t sure  _ what _ was happening, in that moment. But it dragged out, long and heavy, until Tim was finally shifting off of Jason’s lap. He stood up slowly, smoothing out his dress, as Jason stood too. He settled his hat back on, grabbed his bag, and Tim walked with him towards the door. Before he opened it tho, Tim leaned up, took one more kiss. And against his mouth, Jason was whispering, “Let it be, babygirl.”

 

Let it be what it was, before. Because Tim knew he wasn’t ever  _ going _ anywhere. And he knew Jason knew that. To get tangled in this strange sort of high school crush was a mistake, one that Tim would have to reconcile on his own.

 

“I still want you,” Tim said, rubbing a hand up Jason’s chest. “Can we still be  _ us _ ?”

 

Jason smiled, reached up and tipped his hat. “I could never turn you down. Take care of yourself.”

 

Tim nodded, stepping back and letting Jason go. He waited until he had shut both doors before he bent down, carefully picking up the mail he had dropped. Once he had it gathered up he headed for the kitchen, checking on the pot on the stove and the chicken in the over, before setting the mail on the table. He splayed his hand over it, taking a breath, and realized he was shaking. He tried to exhale, watched as a little droplet splashed on the table.

 

He realized he was crying.

 

Tim reached up, wiped at his cheeks. He sniffled, cursing himself and hurrying for the bedroom, to check himself in the vanity. He opened the door carefully, sliding in and moving to look at his reflection. He never got that far, however, heard Kon give a little groan, and then his name, in a hoarse voice.

 

Tim turned quickly, moving over to the bed and leaning over, lovingly brushing Kon’s hair back. His forehead was damp, and Tim knew his fever had gone up. “Honey,” he whispered, and Kon’s eyelids fluttered open, before he turned away, coughing so hard it shook him. Tim sighed, fingers carding through damp hair. “Hold on, I’ll get you some more medicine.”

 

Tim pulled away, move don autopilot out to the kitchen. He wouldn’t think about Jason. He wouldn’t think about feeling like a foolish schoolgirl in love, with weak knees and too many pins in his hair. Wouldn’t think of shaking beneath his skirt and letting his fluttering heart live up in his throat.

 

He returned to the bedroom, opening the bottle and pouring a spoonful. Kon took it without argument this time, including the second dose. Tim turned, was recapping the bottle, when he felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist. He glanced over, and Kon’s dark eyes were on him, exhausted and hazy but still focused.

 

“You’re crying,” he whispered, and Tim realized his cheeks were wet again. He set the spoon down, rubbing at them, as Kon was shoving the sheet down. “Come here.”

 

Tim glanced down at the bed, shaking his head- but Kon kept looking at him with those eyes. Sighing, Tim stepped out of his shoes, crawled over his husband and laid out, resting his head against his too-warm chest. Kon curled an arm around him, rubbing the small of his back, and Tim flashed to stretching out in his bed like this, back in his room at his parents’ house. When Kon came over to study and they kissed until they were breathless, before Kon just wanted to hold him. Wanted to keep him secure.

 

Tim nuzzled his chest, let out a shaking breath. He had never felt like this for anyone  _ except Kon _ , and while sexual attraction and desire didn’t phase him, the emotional pull he hadn’t been braced for. That wasn’t what he was looking for.

 

“I’ve got you,” Kon whispered, and Tim thought his throat must be aching. He bent his head, kissed the top of Tim’s, and TIm couldn’t help but whine over it. He sobbed, once, choked and desperate sounding, and Kon was hushing him.

 

His sick husband, who  _ he _ was supposed to take care of, was comforting him. Was comforting him because he was breaking emotional ties with a man he was cheating on him with. And he had no idea.

 

For one brief moment, Tim felt awful, in the pit of his belly.

 

He tossed an arm over Kon’s waist, clung tighter. And his husband, he never asked Tim what was wrong. He didn’t question, he just held him, let Tim snuggle into his heat even when it was too much, when Tim felt like he was suffocating.

 

“I love you,” Kon whispered, and Tim bit his own tongue. He sniffled, and Kon was squeezing him with one arm.

 

“I know,” Tim whispered, and with his tongue bitter from  _ Jason _ , added, “I love you too.”

 

And he  _ did _ . He loved Kon and would never stop. When he’d given into his own desires, it had been for something physical. And it would remain that. He would get control of himself, he wouldn’t allow himself to feel  _ weak _ like that again.

 

He made men weak, not the other way around.

 

And Tim wouldn’t do that to Kon- he wouldn’t take the one thing he’d had since they were young and foolish, and share it with everyone else.

 

He wouldn’t take his love. His body, his desires, those he could share- but his love, that would remain here, solely with Kon.

 

*

 

Kon drifted as Tim calmed. He pulled himself away when he was sure Kon was sleeping again, when he knew he couldn’t lay there any longer. He carefully climbed over Kon and off the bed, heading for the kitchen.

 

He pulled the chicken from the oven, took his time spreading it, burning his fingertips multiple times, before he was tossing it into the pot. He left it to simmer, busied himself as the afternoon dragged. He shifted through the mail, cleaned the kitchen- which he was always loathe to do- dusted the living room.

 

It was only when he could properly  _ smell _ the soup that he decided it was done. He turned the stove down, giving it a little taste and deciding it wasn’t  _ bad _ . He took another look at the pot, before sighing, heading for his cupboards. He pulled down some of the new tupperware Kon had bought him- because Tim wanted the bright blues  _ so badly _ \- and took the time to carefully fill two large containers.

 

Balancing them on top of each other and holding the warm plastic to his chest, he headed for the door. Once outside, he cut across the lawn, heading over to Stephanie’s and managing to knock. He waited, until the door pulled open, and Rose was smiling at him, her white hair  _ very _ tussled.

 

“Well hello pretty boy,” she said, her one good eye trained on him in ways Tim would always almost shiver under. “What brings you out of your lovenest?”

 

“Kon’s home sick,” Tim said, “and I thought I’d make him some soup and well… I may have overdone it.” Tim held out the two containers he was holding. “The top one is for you and Stephanie. Maybe if you don’t have to worry about dinner you’ll have time for  _ other things _ .”

 

Rose cracked a smile, happily taking it. “You’re a doll,” she offered, leaning out and kissing Tim’s cheek. “That husband of yours better keep a good eye on you, or we’ll all be sweeping you away.”

 

Tim flushed a little, declined her offer to come in- he was sure Stephanie was somewhere waiting  _ eagerly _ for her wife to return- and headed towards the sidewalk. He walked slowly down the street, gripping the last container and wondering what he was thinking. Was he so angry at himself for a  _ weakness _ that he wanted to submit himself to torture?

 

He figured yes, as he turned up the path towards Damian’s doorstep. He paused, ringing the bell, and waited, expected to hear the roar of Titus’ bark and see Damian’s smug smile. Instead when the door opened, there was no dog, just Colin with a set of tired eyes- but a smile, when he saw Tim.

 

“Hi there,” he offered, perking up, “what brings you over Tim?”

 

Tim smiled, controlled and sweet, and held up the container. “Kon’s home sick and I made too much soup. I thought you might like some?”

 

Colin’s smile  _ grew _ . “You’re just the sweetest. Do you wanna come in?” Tim thought on it for a second, before nodding. He stepped inside the house he had rarely ever been in before, followed Colin back towards the kitchen. It was well put together, neat and orderly but not… personal. “Damian took Titus out for a walk,” Colin said, as Tim passed him the container and he set it on the counter. “Barely two minutes in the door and he was out.” Colin patted the container. “I’m not even putting it in the fridge, this is absolutely dinner tonight.”

 

Tim flushed a little, wringing his hands together. “It isn’t anything great but-”

 

“Nonsense. I bet it’s wonderful. Do you want coffee? I just put some on.” Tim nodded, thinking it was nice to be out for a moment. Figuring Kon would be sleeping for a bit, and the stove was low enough to just keep the soup warm. He accepted the cup after Colin had poured cream and sugar into it, followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Colin sank down with a sigh, tipping his head back, as Tim settled in one of the plush chairs. He sipped the coffee, looking Colin over. He’d stripped of some of his work clothes, the white undershirt he’d worn a little tight, still a little dusty.

 

Tim knew Colin worked odd hours sometimes, worked long days others. He hadn’t gone into the family business he’d married into, like Kon had. He worked for one of the factories- Tim felt bad he couldn’t remember which- and he knew it wasn’t easy work.

 

“Long day?” he asked, as Colin forced himself to lift his head, drink his coffee. He gave an  _ mhm _ , as Tim took his own sip. “And Damian left already?”

 

“It was time for Titus’ walk,” Colin said with a shrug. Tim frowned. He figured it was more  _ time for Damian to case the neighborhood to see what everyone was up to _ \- but he kept that to himself. For the moment. “He’s a big guy, he needs plenty of exercise.”

 

“Damn horse,” Tim mumbled, and Colin laughed. It was rich and quick, and it made his freckled cheeks light up.

 

“Honestly? I agree. Swear he eats more than I do. Leave it to Damian and he’d cook dinner for dog and not us.” Tim frowned, leaning forward a little- and he couldn’t help himself.

 

“I just can’t believe he hasn’t seen you all day, and the moment you’re here, he’s gone.”

 

Colin shrugged again, finishing off his coffee quickly. He set the empty mug on the table in front of him. “He needs his space,” Colin offered, but his voice sounded a little sad. Tim gripped his mug tighter, once again wondering  _ what _ had put this sweet man in this position. How he had ever come to be a part of Damian’s life.

 

“He had space all day,” Tim mused, as Colin rubbed at the crock of his neck. Tim sighed. “Do you want a hand?” Colin jerked his eyes up to him.

 

“I couldn’t ask you to-”

 

“It’s fine. Scoot over.” Tim stood up, bending over to set his coffee mug on the table, as Colin shifted towards one end of the sofa. He turned to face the arm, drawing one leg up, as Tim settled behind him. He ran his hands gently over Colin’s shoulders, down his back, getting a feel for him first. He heard a little breath, as he skimmed his nails back up, before gripping at the dip between his shoulders and neck. His thumbs worked into the tight muscle, and Colin groaned, dropping his head forward. “Tenser than a virgin on a wedding night,” Tim mumbled, almost concerned.

 

Colin huffed a laugh, a little breathy, and it made Tim bite at his lip. Because if this was anyone else, he could turn this into something. He knew he could. And despite his brief, momentary break- or maybe  _ because _ of it- he felt like he needed a reminder that sex could be just that. Sex.

 

But this would be  _ dangerous _ to a degree he wasn’t ready for.

 

He worked his hands down Colin’s back, leaned a little closer. His breath hit Colin’s hair, the nape of his neck, and he felt him shiver.

 

Tim wondered if Damian ever did this. If Colin ever came home from work and Damian just took care of him. When was the last time Damian had put his hands on him? When had they been intimate?

 

Maybe he was just as nosy as he always chided Damian in being.

 

“This feels like weeks of stress,” Tim mumbled, dragging his thumbs down Colin’s back and out, towards his hips. He got a sigh, before Colin managed out,

 

“Probably is.”

 

Tim frowned. He moved back up to his shoulders, was working them to feel like liquid over bone, when he heard the front door opening. He didn’t move, didn’t even glance up at first, but caught the movement from the corner of his eyes, through his lashes. Damian, stepping into the living room, as Titus wondered in, happily collapsing on the floor.

 

“Hi darling,” Colin offered, lifting his head enough to turn his glance at his wife. Tim finally turned his head, as Colin continued, “Tim brought over dinner.” Tim squeezed extra hard, and Colin groaned, the kind that Tim could imagine him making with his legs wrapped around his waist.

 

He could only smirk, as Damian folded his arms, lifting his chin. “Aren’t you needed at home?”

 

“Damian, don’t be rude,” Colin said, sounding tired. Tim pulled his hands back, giving Colin’s spine a smooth rub, before he stood up.

 

“No, it’s alright. I do need to get home and check on my husband.” He leaned over, gave Colin a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek. “Let me know if you still hurt though, I can come back and get all those knots out. Kon gets them when he’s stressed too.”

 

Colin thanked him, and Tim straightened up, walking past Damian. He paused for just a moment, glanced at him, and with a smug smirk on his face, made his way for the door and outside.

 

He was halfway back to his house when he heard heels clicking in a run. He paused when a hand curled around his arm, and Damian was forcing him to spin around, staring at him with burning eyes.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, and those eyes were still perfectly drawn out and gorgeous, and so,  _ so _ angry.

 

“Going home?” Tim asked, as Damian’s hand squeezed his arm harder.

 

“I meant with my  _ husband _ .”

 

Tim told himself not to smirk. Truly, he did- but it was there, he couldn’t fight the curl of his lips. “Something you obviously never do,” he offered, and Damian’s eyes went a little wide. “Poor thing is exhausted and tenser than all hell. Sweetie, maybe give him a little TLC now and then.”

 

“-Tt-” Damian squeezed, and Tim finally jerked his arm back. “I know what you are,” Damian said, leaning closer, “I know you’re not the  _ model wife _ your husband thinks you are. You’re up to  _ something _ , I know it.”

 

“You’re paranoid,” Tim said, frowning. “And delusional. What you need it to put half this energy you use with your obsession with me towards your husband for a change. When was the last time you crawled into bed with him, hm?” Damian was quiet, and Tim leaned in now, jabbing a finger into his chest. “When was the last time you let him get a little release? Get a little love?”

 

“That is none of your concern!”

 

“And my life is none of yours, and yet here we are.” Tim pulled back, folding his arms. “Pay attention to your man, sweetie, before someone else does and takes him right from under your nose.”

 

Tim turned then, even as Damian yelled. He heard the word  _ whore _ , but TIm ignored him. If Damian wanted to make a scene of himself for the neighbors, so be it. Tim wasn’t interested.

 

He let himself back into the house, locking the door behind him. He headed to the kitchen first, to make sure everything was still in place and the soup was alright, before moving to the bedroom. He toed off his heels and headed for the bed, crawling up onto it as Kon stirred, settling right next to him. He bent his knees, dug his toes udner his husband’s warm body and leaned his folded arms onto his knees, watching as those eyes fluttered open.

 

“Hey princess,” Kon mumbled, and Tim wiggled his toes, got his husband to give a breathy laugh.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Better than earlier,” Kon admitted, reaching up to cover his yawn with his fist. “Like I slept the whole day away.”

 

“You pretty much did.” Kon reached out, for his overly warm hand on Tim’s ankle and rubbed up along his smooth calf. “Guess what?”

 

“What?” Kon asked, looking at Tim like he was the whole damn world. Tim felt his belly going tight and smiled, trying to hide it in his arms.

 

“I love you,” he mumbled, and Kon full on grinned.

 

“Well, that makes me the luckiest man alive.” His hand rubbed down the curve of Tim’s calf, and Tim shivered. Large fingers pressed to his ankle bone, and Tim was half tempted to climb up onto his husband in that moment, to help him ride his fever out.

 

“I made dinner,” Tim said, “soup. Just like the doctor would order.” 

 

Kon sat up slowly, trying to smooth back his bed-tousled hair. “You’re such a good little wife.” He reached out, curled his arm around Tim’s waist and dragged him in, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek as Tim giggled. “The best, honestly. If I could kiss you right now…”

 

“You could,” TIm whispered, reaching out, dragging his finger down Kon’s bare chest. “I’d swoon just like I used to.”

 

Kon chuckled. “As much as I want to, one of us sick is more than enough. I’ll make up for it…” he bowed his head, kissed the crook of Tim’s neck, and Tim sighed, fingers flexing in the material of his dress. “But for now, how about dinner. You said soup and I’m pretty sure my stomach woke up from a seven year nap.”

 

Tim laughed, unfolding himself and climbing from the bed. He reached out, offered his hands, and Kon took them, let his wife pull him from the bed. “Whatever you want, darling,” Tim offered, keeping a hold on one of his hands as he led him from the bedroom towards the kitchen.

 

He pretended he didn’t hear when Kon mumbled  _ you _ , but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It felt good, felt like what he needed. A moment to reconnect his affection with the one he wanted to share it with, to put everything else in perspective.

 

He’d be okay next time. He’d be able to touch and want without loving. Except for Kon. He knew he’d  _ never _ be able to separate the two, with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Have no fear this is not the end of JayTim in this AU.


End file.
